My Sunrise
by bluerosedreamer
Summary: What did Heathcliff do when he left Wuthering Heights? Why did Catherine finally consent to marry Edgar? This is a fanfiction that answers the questions left unanswered in the novel.
1. Chapter 1

The rain was pouring sideways, getting under Heathcliff's hat and soaking his face and dark hair. Droplets gathered on his eyelashes, blurring his vision. He blinked them away with annoyance. His clothes were sopping wet, and his shoes made sloshing sounds with every step. The night was melting into sunrise, but the sun held no refuge from the rain. Gray clouds stopped the beauty of the sunrise from reaching his eyes. He stopped, staring at the horizon. And thought of her. Catherine. The name held a certain grief even as he thought it. She was the one, the only one, he would ever love. And she had just become engaged. A surge of anger pounded through him at the simpering whelp that was to become her husband. That pitiful boy was the rain cloud preventing him from seeing the beautiful sunrise. And for what reason? He overheard her talking to her maidservant, saying that it was Edgar's money that caused her to accept his offer of marriage. She wanted to use him to lift me from poverty. She loves me. But she chose him. If she just believed in me, that I could make myself good enough for her, then she would never have considered him!

He had been walking alone in the mud for twelve hours for one purpose. He was going to Europe, to become a gentleman good enough for the woman he loved to marry him. And when he came back, she would have no reason to choose Edgar. She would choose the man she loved and they would be together as they should be. Even as he mused on his plan, grief washed over him. He hated leaving her, even if it was just for a short time. She was his sunrise, her love the rays which gave him motivation to go on living. But to gain her forever, he had to leave her for a few years. And when he came back, they would never part again. Or so he hoped.

Catherine ran around the moor for the twelfth time, rain completely soaked through her thin nightgown and her hair. She felt heavy as the water gathered into the fabric, but she kept running. She had to find Heathcliff. It had been over twelve hours since he left, and she was worried he had done something stupid. And after overhearing that she had agreed to Edgar's proposal, she understood why he would. She was filthy and shivering, sobbing uncontrollably. She felt his absence like a knife in her chest, but she couldn't let her discomfort stop her from finding him. After all, how much more pain would she be in if she found out he was dead in a bog somewhere? The thought started her tears again, and with that and the rain, she just couldn't see enough to keep on searching. She tried anyway. After an hour though, she knew it wasn't working out. She was about to pass out in the grass. She decided to trudge home, so she would have strength to keep looking tomorrow. She reached the gate to Wuthering heights, where a small light was still on. She used the last of her strength to push the door open and walk a few steps before collapsing on the floor. Her brother was yelling for Heathcliff like she had been all night.

"Where is he?" Hindley growled at her.

"I don't know." She whispered. "I don't know." Hearing the dismay in her voice, Hindley turned around to find her lying on the floor, shivering, sneezing and her clothes creating puddles on the floor. He gasped, leaning over her. "Catherine! What have you done to yourself? Have you been out all night?" He gathered her in his arms and carried her upstairs. The world spun around her, spots showing at the edge of her vision. "I don't care about myself. What matters is what have I done to him?" Hindley looked as if he wanted her to explain, but she couldn't. Hindley hated Heathcliff with a passion, and he would never condone his beloved sister's worry about him. Catherine tried to lift herself away from Hindley to go back out to search for the man she loved, but found with dismay that she couldn't. She let the blackness envelop her as she reached her room, Heathcliff's face still clear in her mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Heathcliff mounted the horse he had just "borrowed" in Gimmerton, a sturdy bay that could travel far without succumbing to fatigue. Heathcliff only hoped he could stay alert as well, for he would need to travel nearly 24 hours until reaching the nearest harbor. His plan was to sneak onto a ship bound for France. He didn't know what he would do when he got there, but the rent was cheap and he was resourceful.

He had a few days worth of food with him, all he could afford after trading his working boots. His bare feet hung limply over the sides of the horse, but he didn't mind. At least he didn't have to walk. He clucked the horse into a gallop and rode off across Britain's flatlands.

Cathy blinked, forgetting where she was. Spots were in front of her eyes, preventing her from seeing her surroundings clearly. When they finally cleared, she realized she was in her room in the top floor of Wuthering Heights. Usually Heathcliff snuck into her room every night, and she wondered why tonight had been different. Then it hit her. Heathcliff was gone. He had run away. Cathy sat up quickly with the intention to look for him, but she immediately started coughing. This fit continued for fifteen minutes, until her throat was burning. She tried to get up, but her head swam until she knew she would pass out if she didn't lay down again. She lowered her head back onto the pillow, and breathed slowly. The coughing fit soon started up again, and it became so loud and lasted so long that it brought her brother up from his moody stupor to see what the matter was.

"What the Devil are you doing, Cathy? You're making a racket!" Hindley growled as he entered her room. But when he got a good look at her, he stopped talking, his mouth hanging open. Cathy tried to sit up again and ask him what was wrong, but as soon as she tried, her head swam again. "Shhh Cathy, just go to sleep." Hindley soothed her and put the covers over her. She noticed his hand was shaking slightly, and wondered why for a moment. Suddenly, she forgot everything except how deliriously tired she was, and dropped off to sleep.

Hindley looked at his sisters sleeping form. She was as pale as a ghost, and sweating far more than usual. Her felt her head, and discovered she was hot to the touch. He remembered when his father died of a vicious fever, and left the room, shaking. He immediately wrote two telegrams, and sent them out with his servants.

"What's wrong, darling?" His pretty young wife asked him, seeing his stressed expression.

"Cathy is dangerously ill. I haven't seen anyone in that bad condition since…" His wife nodded, embracing him. "Doctor Kenneth should be on his way." Hindley mumbled into her shoulder.

Heathcliff slowed the horse to a walk. Sweat soaked the animal, even causing his mouth to foam a little. Heathcliff was drenched in sweat also, and he realized he hadn't slept all day. He just wanted to get to the harbor as fast as possible, for he feared he would lose his resolve and go back to Wuthering Heights because he missed Catherin e so much. He was especially on edge at this moment, because he couldn't help feeling that something was wrong back at home. He shook the feeling off, attributing it to simple paranoia. The horse whinned his discomfort, and Heathcliff felt like agreeing. He hadn't even stopped long enough to eat, and his eyelids were dropping from lack of sleep. Just as he was about to halt the horse and rest, he saw a shimmery blue color in the distance. He edged the horse to a gallop with renewed vigor, knowing he was one step closer to his goal of winning back Catherine when he reached that dock.


End file.
